The Scribe (59 page)

“It’s not much, but I’ll keep at it,” he said apologetically. “And you? Have you made any progress?”

She showed him the text with two new paragraphs. Each night, before she went to sleep, she would read the parchment hidden in her father’s bag and memorize the next few lines.

“It’s not much, but I’m making progress.”

Alcuin grumbled, then took a cloth from his bag and placed it on the table.

Theresa examined its contents closely. “Hair?” she asked.

“Indeed. I can’t see the strands very clearly in this light.” He cleared his throat as if he was embarrassed to admit it. “But they all seem different.”

Theresa moved the candle so close that a drop of wax fell onto the hairs. Alcuin told her to be careful, and she apologized for her carelessness.

She could distinguish three types of hair: some fine and brown; some curly, shorter, and darker; and finally, some similar to the latter, but grayer in tone.

“The short ones are—” she reddened.

“Yes, I think so,” Alcuin confirmed.

After Theresa returned from washing her hands, she still felt disgusted. As she dried her hands, the monk offered his conclusions: “By all appearances the wet nurse was a tidy, meticulous woman, with no known romances and concerned only for the well-being of Wilfred’s daughters. This impression was reinforced by her plain attire, her clean face, and the care and attention she gave the little girls. However, the room that she shared with the twins tells a different story. Inside I found adornments, makeup, and perfume, as well as an expensive dress, more suitable for a young lady of means and of a marriageable age. The wet nurse was a mature woman and her pay wouldn’t have allowed her to buy those items. She must have acquired them by engaging in illicit activities.”

“That, or they were gifts,” Theresa suggested.

“At any rate,” he added, “she was a woman who was not so devoted to the children as would appear, especially considering that she had no qualms about sharing a room and bed with a graying man who was no doubt very old and a member of the clergy.”

“But, how can you be so sure?”

“From the smell of church incense on the blankets. His habit must have been impregnated with it.”

Theresa nodded, surprised. However, Alcuin did not attach much importance to it. He continued to tell her about his
encounter with Zeno, explaining that, somehow, the crypt where they had taken Gorgias must have been connected to the inside of the fortress. He added that—due to the plates and food scraps he found—he was convinced that it was used to imprison her father.

At that moment someone banged on the door. When Alcuin opened it, a soldier was there to inform him that his presence was required.

“What’s happening?”

“They’ve found the wet nurse drowned in the cloister well.”

When Alcuin arrived at the well, several men were lifting the body out using pikes. Finally the woman’s bloated corpse surfaced, collapsing like a sack of pork belly onto the cloister paving. Her clothes had come undone, revealing an immense pair of breasts, flaccid from feeding the girls. Then, Izam was lowered down to inspect the bottom of the well and make sure there were no other bodies. When he came back up, he assured Wilfred that his daughters were not there.

They took the body to the kitchens, where after a superficial examination, Alcuin determined that she had been strangled to death before being deposited in the well. Her fingernails were chipped, but there was no trace of skin embedded under them, which meant they may have been damaged when the body was retrieved. He then examined the genitals, verifying that the pubic hair matched what he’d found on her pallet. Among her clothes he found nothing of significance. Her outfit befitted her role, a dark habit protected by an apron. Her face, though swollen, seemed clean, with no creams or makeup. When he had finished, he gave permission for her shrouding. Then he asked to speak to Wilfred alone.

In private he informed the count of his findings, which suggested that a member of the clergy had seduced the woman in
order to kidnap the girls. However, he added that in his opinion, it was likely the wet nurse wasn’t aware of her lover’s intentions.

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because otherwise she would have prepared to make her escape, yet her belongings were found in her cell.”

“Perhaps they attacked her. We don’t know for sure, for goodness’ sake. And the man that you speak of? Do you have any clues?”

“The blankets stank of incense,” he explained.

“I will order every priest be detained. If anyone has touched the children, I will string them up by their own entrails.”

“Calm yourself, my Lord. Bear in mind that if they wanted to kill your daughters, they would have done so already. No, the twins are safe. And as for some other perverted or ghoulish intentions, I would rule that out, too. If that were the case, it would have been easier to take any other little girl. There are dozens astray on every corner.”

“Calm myself? With my daughters at the mercy of some fiend?”

“I repeat: If they wanted to harm them, we would already know about it.”

“If
they
wanted? Why do you speak in the plural?”

Alcuin pointed out that it would have been difficult for one man to carry and hide two little girls. As for the motive, excluding despicable acts, and ruling out revenge, there could only be one reason.

“Stop speaking in riddles, man.”

“Blackmail, my esteemed Wilfred. In exchange for their lives, they intend to obtain something that you possess: power… money… land.”

“I’m going to make those rats eat their own balls,” the count bellowed, touching his testicles. The two dogs became agitated, making the chair shake.

“In any event,” Alcuin reflected, “it could well be that the suspected cleric only amused himself with the nanny and played no part in the kidnapping.”

“So what do you suggest—that I stay here with my arms crossed?”

“Be patient and get on with the search. Put the priests under watch and have them take oaths. Block the movement of people and goods. Make a list of those who enjoy your complete trust and another of those you believe capable of blackmailing you. But above all, wait for the kidnappers to communicate their intentions to you—for once they do, time will be of the essence.”

Wilfred nodded.

They agreed to report back to each other as soon as they had any news. Then the count cracked his whip and left the kitchens. Alone in the room, Alcuin looked at the poor naked woman. He covered her with a sack and made the sign of the cross over her, thinking it lamentable that her carnal desires had led to her demise.

27

The day passed by slowly for Wilfred. Izam and his subordinates scoured granaries, barns, storehouses, towers, wells, tunnels, moats, passages, attics, cellars, carts, bales of straw, barrels, chests, and even cupboards. Nowhere went unchecked. Every man was questioned and searched from head to toe. Wilfred offered fifty arpents of vineyards to anyone who could provide information on the whereabouts of his daughters, and thirty more for the heads of their abductors. He locked himself in the armory and demanded hourly reports on the progress of the investigations.

Meanwhile, with Theodor’s help, he made a list of loyal subjects and another of adversaries. In the first, he wrote down only four names, then one by one decided to removed them. In the second, he included so many names that he did not wish to tell Alcuin. Wilfred excluded all newcomers from his list of suspects, for he believed that the abduction of his daughters had been a long time in the planning. In fact, he had accepted Alcuin’s suggestion to double the search party by forming two groups: one of his own men and another made up of the ship’s crew, led by Izam.

At sundown, Wilfred sent his men to scour the area. Violent exchanges and shouting could be heard throughout the night as soldiers interrogated townsfolk. Several priests were tortured, but at dawn, the soldiers returned with empty hands.

The next day was identical to the previous one. First thing in the morning, Wilfred decreed that the rationing of grain should be put on hold until the twins were found. He also sealed off the city walls so that no inhabitant could leave or enter without his knowledge. Alcuin advised him against indiscriminate reprisals, but the count assured him that as soon as the rabble were beset by hunger, the kidnappers would be turned in.

Since the girls had been abducted, Hoos had been very involved in the search. At first he had assisted Izam. Then, making the most of Wilfred’s trust in him, he put himself forward to inspect the royal granaries and their adjoining tunnels. Wilfred then placed Hoos in charge of his own men.

Theresa longed for Hoos’s caresses. She could still feel the intensity of his kisses, still taste his skin. Sometimes she caught herself pressing her legs together as if she could keep him there. Nonetheless, since their last encounter, she had hardly seen him. He was always busy, and she would rise early to go to the scriptorium, which she left only to eat in the kitchens. It even crossed her mind that he had taken up with another woman, and when she saw him she told him as much. He seemed hard-pressed, but even so, it bothered her when he said good-bye without even giving her a kiss.

While Theresa made progress in the scriptorium, Alcuin assessed the reports on the kidnapping that reached the fortress. Among them, there were several who claimed they had seen the late wet nurse practicing witchcraft, and others who blamed wolves for the little girls’ disappearance. Some seemed well intentioned, but most were from unscrupulous townsfolk lured by the reward. Several men had been thrashed for making up lies, but one of them mentioned the theft of some booties from the laundry.

Alcuin questioned the midget monk in charge of domestic services. He confirmed they were missing. “Sometimes clothes
are mislaid, but with the twins’ garments, we were always quite careful.”

He assured him that it had been four booties, plus a couple of the cloths used in the kitchens. Alcuin thanked him and returned to the scriptorium, convinced that the twins were still in the fortress. In a meeting with Izam, Alcuin suggested they keep watch over the storehouses and kitchens.

“If, like I suspect, they are still here, their abductors might need food.”

“That’s impossible. We’ve left no stone unturned.”

“I don’t doubt that, but there are more stones here than in a quarry.”

Alcuin asked Izam to post a guard at the door of the scriptorium day and night, which Izam agreed to readily. He also agreed to keep watch over the kitchens and report anything new to Wilfred in the morning.

That night, taking advantage of the moon’s absence, several hungry townspeople clambered over the wall that protected the royal granaries. The assailants were driven away, but it became very clear that Wilfred’s restrictive measures would soon bring serious consequences.

The next day at breakfast, Wilfred hardly ate. He was not interested in Alcuin’s discoveries and paid no attention when he was informed about the assault on the granaries. He seemed absent, as if some potion had clouded his mind. Fortunately, in a moment of lucidity he agreed to resume the distribution of provisions and allow for the transportation of goods. Izam applauded the decision, for it would prevent further incidents, although, like many others, he wondered what had triggered the change of heart. When Alcuin queried Wilfred on the matter, he refused to answer. The monk continued to prod him, but the count suggested that Alcuin concentrate on the parchment and step back from the kidnapping
investigation. From now on, he said, he would lead the search for his daughters himself.

Over the course of the afternoon, normality returned to the fortress. Gradually the servants went back to their tasks, the grain was distributed to the townsfolk, and preparations began for the first hunt, which would take place with the arrival of spring. Izam and his men continued the repairs to the ship, which they had only half finished when they arrived in the city, and Wilfred’s soldiers returned to man the defenses.

The congregation attending the Sext service plodded into the Church of Saint John Chrysostom as unhurried as a herd of grazing sheep. The procession was led by Flavio Diacono wearing a striking purple biretta similar to a pope’s. He was followed by a retinue of clerics dressed like peacocks, followed by the minor orders, and then the choir boys. At the rear of the procession were a throng of curious townsfolk, worshippers, and starvelings wanting to attend a Eucharist to pray for the safe return of the twins.

The church soon filled like a packed sheepfold. When the great doors were closed, Cassiano, the precentor, had the boys warm up their voices. Then, with Flavio’s permission, he opened his arms like an angel to commence the miracle of Gregorian chant. Those in attendance, most of them clerics, bowed their heads when the first antiphon rang out in a symphony of celestial notes that made the ashlars vibrate. Cassiano swung his arms directing the swirl of voices up into the vaults, where they enveloped the pillars and reverberated until hairs stood on end. The music kept dancing, flowing from those cherubs like the melodic prayers of goldfinches

Then, abruptly, one of the voices fractured into a howl of terror. The rest of the children fell silent and everyone in the church turned toward the choir to see the boys retreating as if fleeing from a bad smell.

Lying on the ground before them, Korne the parchment-maker convulsed and vomited what little life he had left. By the time Alcuin reached him, the old man was dead.

They took the body to the sacristy, where Flavio anointed him with holy oil in a final attempt to resuscitate him. But despite his efforts, the body remained motionless. Alcuin noticed that Korne’s head had been shaved, that he had gray hairs on his pubis, and that he reeked of incense. Korne’s eyes seemed askew, and his mouth continued to issue a whitish froth. When Alcuin examined his hands, he found two puncture holes on the right palm.

When he informed Wilfred of what happened, the count merely continued to munch on the chicken thigh he was holding. After throwing the bones to the dogs, he looked at Alcuin indifferently as he wiped his mouth with his sleeve. The monk told him that he had found a snakebite on Korne’s right hand.